Chapter 26: Refusal

“Old Master Yu, did you enter a martial arts world? So many cold weapons.”
A burly bald man in his forties, also LV3, with the title Steel Butcher, squatted down and picked up a pair of broadswords. He knocked their backs together, listened to the clash of steel, and remarked in slight surprise, “Good steel, fine weapons!”

“I entered a world of traditional martial arts. No enchantments, no special effects, just ordinary weapons,” replied the white-bearded elder, known as Sword Sage, sitting upright on his folding stool, chuckling softly.

“You’re being modest, sir.”

The Sword Sage title was rare, so quite a crowd gathered, more than twenty people, including several white and black foreigners, all surrounding the stall. However, when some realized the weapons were all mundane cold arms, they lost interest and left. In the end, only seven or eight people lingered. Yan Luo’s gaze fell on a strange weapon nearly two meters long, with an oval-shaped head studded with eight iron spikes, menacing at first glance.

“What’s this?”

The Sword Sage responded kindly, not the least bit cold, “That’s a horse lance. An ancient polearm, heavy and brutal, a hybrid between a spear and a mace, mostly used in cavalry battles. Very difficult to master.”

Zhu Xiaoyong squatted down with effort, his eyes gleaming as he stared at an enormous saber—exaggeratedly large, like a door plank.

“Sir, is this the legendary horse-chopping blade? It must feel amazing to slash someone with it.”

“Hahaha…”
The old man stroked his beard and shook his head, laughing. “That’s not a horse-chopping blade. It’s called a Warrior’s Saber, a unique Bagua sect weapon. The blade can double as a shield. Besides, this isn’t made for slashing—when the saber stands as tall as a person, it’s not easy to cut people with it.”

“You grip the handle with one hand, steady the back of the blade with the other, wielding it with both hands. It relies mainly on your lower body strength, waist power, and inertia. Swing, push, pull, and slice.”

“Oh.”
The fat man pointed to a pair of circular weapons. “These look like… what’s the name? Axes?”

“Right, those are also Bagua sect weapons,” the old man nodded. “Twin Mandarin Duck Axes. Designed for hooking, locking, and stabbing—very dangerous, but hard to master. You’re an LV1 newcomer, better not get interested in these. Without Bagua hand techniques and footwork, you’ll never use them well.”

“Thank you, sir.”
Fatty Zhu Xiaoyong was touched that this LV3 Sword Sage elder spoke to him so amiably.

“How much for these weapons?” asked Wang Dongwei.

“Two thousand for foreigners, one thousand for locals. Even paired weapons like those axes are just one thousand. No haggling. My prices are rock bottom, haha… Also, only one item per person. I don’t want my goods being resold,” the Sword Sage replied, his voice booming.

“What? Two thousand for us?”
Some of the white and black bystanders weren’t happy. While two thousand wasn’t expensive for these steel weapons, why did the locals pay only half? Yet, with his title of Sword Sage, no one questioned him. The foreigners quickly dispersed.

Seeing the old man was so approachable, Wang Dongwei drew his Eight-Sided Han Sword from his waist and asked, “Sir, could you take a look at this sword I just bought for a thousand points? How is it?”

The Sword Sage stood up from his stool, flicked the sword’s back with a finger, and listened to the crisp metallic note.

“It’s a good sword. Any weapon forged with care is a fine weapon. But swordsmanship is hard to master. You’re only LV1, your title is Zombie Hunter, right? A complete novice, I imagine. You don’t look like you have any martial background. A beginner choosing a sword as a weapon—that’s a poor choice.”

“There’s an old saying: ‘A month for the staff, a year for the saber, a lifetime for the spear. Treasure your sword, carry it with you, and when you die, bury it with you, so you can practice again in your next life!’ The sword is not easy to master.”

Zhu Xiaoyong quickly said, “Sir, we just cleared the novice mission. Our guide died in that world, so no one taught us these basics… Sir, what weapon would you recommend for complete beginners like us, with no foundation?”

“A guide at LV3, actually died in the novice world?”
The Sword Sage was surprised, but didn’t press the issue. He answered, “Use a saber! Choppers! In those movies, street thugs with no martial arts always use choppers—just hack away. There’s also the dagger, but that requires some finesse. To kill in one strike, you need to hit vital points.”

“Of course, the simplest is the staff. Easy to pick up. First courage, then strength, then skill. To practice staff, you must first have courage. With no blade, facing someone armed with a knife or sword, you’ll naturally feel at a disadvantage, and your fighting spirit suffers. You must not fear! You also need strength to deliver damage; without it, the staff is useless. As for skill, that’s your basics—stances like horse stance and bow stance. If you can’t hold your ground, you can’t wield the staff properly.”

The old Sword Sage was clearly sharing his experience and insight with newcomers.

Wang Dongwei listened gloomily. He’d spent a thousand points of his bio-energy from the novice mission on the Eight-Sided Han Sword, only to be told by a Sword Sage that he’d chosen wrong. He hesitated, then asked seriously, “Sir, I really love the sword. Is it too late for me to start practicing now?”

“You love it?”
The Sword Sage fell silent for a moment, then said, “If you truly want to follow the sword path, then unlock the basic swordsmanship skill from the combat category.”

“Later, when you upgrade swordsmanship to advanced and specialized, you won’t instantly acquire any techniques, but your learning and comprehension will improve greatly—it’s like increasing your talent for the sword.”

“The sword is hard to master. It values agility and speed, with many variations. You must also train movement, footwork, breathing, and force. Learn both forms and free fighting. Basics are crucial—real combat isn’t about routines. One stroke settles it: life or death, that’s all.”

“So, whether it’s thrusting, slashing, or drawing cuts, practice until it’s second nature—reflexive.”

“I suggest you choose a more peaceful, slow-paced world next. Devote yourself to sword training there. At least master the basics, and you’ll have truly begun your sword journey. Then you can consider learning techniques, and once those are familiar, pursue the deeper essence.”

He stroked his beard again and added, “I’ve said a lot of useless words. In truth, these are secondary. The most important thing for walking the sword path is obsession. Will you still want to practice the sword when hot weapons are available? When you control energy, will swordsmanship still matter? Without true passion for the sword, it’s better to give up early.”

“If you skip practice for a few days, your skill will regress. If you can’t persevere, don’t bother—choose a simpler saber technique. You’ll survive much easier in the inner world.”

“Obsession with the sword… a sword fanatic…” Wang Dongwei muttered.

Yan Luo, meanwhile, was pondering what to choose as his first weapon.

He picked up a saber from the stall, likely a Han dynasty ring-hilted saber. The hilt had an iron ring tied with a blood-red silk tassel. He tested its weight with a few shadow strikes in the air. The Sword Sage’s eyes lit up instantly.

The old man hurried over and raised his hand; Yan Luo paused his swings and looked at him.

“Let me feel your natural endowment!”

The Sword Sage’s hand was not withered like most elders’, but broad and strong. He squeezed Yan Luo’s biceps, pressed along his spine, tapped his shoulders and legs. His eyes grew brighter and brighter. “Excellent foundation! This is the first time I’ve seen a newcomer with such natural potential!”

“Balanced frame, powerful muscles, a spine like a dragon! Even the meridians and skin have elasticity. With a body like this, if you trained in martial arts, you’d be a prodigy… Did you boost your basic strength, agility, and constitution with genetic points? Even with all three, such coordination is rare… I can’t figure it out.”

Of course, the old man couldn’t know that Yan Luo had used dream gene points to unlock basic vitality, and even invested five points in regeneration. If he ever achieved perfect vitality and flesh evolution, his body would be godlike, almost immortal.

“Do you have any martial background?” the Sword Sage asked.

He could tell Wang Dongwei and Zhu Xiaoyong had no foundation, but Yan Luo’s physical excellence was unprecedented.

“No.”

“A true uncut jade!”

You feel a surge of emotion:
Joy +1

The old man gripped Yan Luo’s right hand tightly. “I’m already very old, and I’ve never managed to pass on my skills. Will you become my disciple?” The old man wanted to take him as a student—traditional martial arts masters rarely find a worthy successor.

Moreover, Yan Luo’s clear gaze reassured the Sword Sage—his intermediate spiritual sense allowed him to discern this young man was not evil.

Both talent and character, a perfect disciple!
Where could he find such a student? If Yan Luo entered a martial arts world, the sect leaders and masters would all vie to take him in.

The Sword Sage’s eyes were brimming with hope and satisfaction. He never imagined, at over seventy, he’d meet such a promising disciple!

“No, I refuse,” Yan Luo replied, expressionless.

“Why?” The old man looked as if he had suffered a devastating blow.

You feel a surge of emotion:
Shock +1

Rejected?
Impossible!
He couldn’t comprehend it.

“Because, compared to energy manipulation, supernatural abilities, magic, or cultivation, the martial arts system is too weak. The effort and reward aren’t proportional—after ten years of bitter training, you might not even beat someone with a kitchen knife. If I had the time to train, I’d rather earn more bio-energy and buy a handgun. Of course, if I could get an AK-47 or a Gatling gun, even better.”

The Sword Sage: “…”

You feel a surge of emotion:
Disappointment +1

Seeing the old man’s dejected look, Zhu Xiaoyong quickly said, “Sir, don’t feel bad! I’ll be your disciple!”

The Sword Sage turned to look at the chubby youth—over three hundred pounds, his belly wobbling, grin greasy with the smell of smoked meat.

You feel a surge of emotion:
Disdain +1